Jewel of Promise

by Marian Wells

  Trembling, she went to Dr. Whitt. “It’s Billy,” she whispered, blinking tears away. From a distance she watched the doctor bend over him, then shake his head. For a moment his hand lingered on Billy’s shoulder.

  Dr. Whitt came back to Olivia, took the mug, and drank the milk. “Better stay with him. It won’t be long.”

  She knelt beside his cot. There was a scrap of paper in his hand. “Would you write—my mother?”

  “Yes.” She took the address and wiped the blood from his mouth. “Billy, are you trusting Jesus as your Savior?”

  He nodded. There was a hint of a smile on his face. “Forever, since I was a little tyke.”

  She took his hand. “Would you like me to read the Bible to you?”

  He shook his head. “Sing that new song, about His truth marching on.”

  Her voice was robust as she sang the words that had constantly flowed through her mind since she first heard them. “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord…His truth is marching on!…In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me….”

  His eyes were closed, his hand limp. She stayed on her knees, tears dampening the flecks of blood on her apron.

  When she stood and slowly walked down the corridor, the final line rang in her ears: As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free. While God is marching on.

  Dr. Whitt met her at the foot of the stairs. “After you’ve written that letter, I want you to pack your bags and go home. Mrs. Duncan, you are in no condition to continue this work.”

  She listened in dismay. “Dr. Whitt, please don’t send me away. This is the only thing in my life that is important. Please don’t deny me this task.”

  “I am afraid for your life.”

  Her head jerked up. She looked up at him, strangely. So that’s the meaning of the dream! “Dr. Whitt, I beg you, don’t send me away. If the time comes when I can’t work, I’ll leave.”

  He sighed. “Very well. But Mrs. Duncan, I’ve noticed you have lost weight. You must consider your health.”

  “I will; and thank you, sir.”

  She started up the stairs, smiling for the first time in weeks. If Alex can’t come to me, she thought, then perhaps I’ll go to him.

  Chapter 38

  “Let’s march,” Colonel Woodrow ordered quietly. They moved out, Alex and the other white soldiers surrounded by the Negro regiment with their white commander. Within an hour the sound of baying hounds and shouting men was left behind. They reached the trees, formed columns, and pushed west.

  The sun had risen when the black man who had led the rescue dropped back beside Alex. “Marching too fast?”

  “Some of the fellows are in bad condition. They’ve been in prison most of the year,” Alex said, “Food situation was bad.”

  They trudged silently through the trees. “Private Johnson, Colonel Woodrow wants us to keep in the trees along the James River; he figures that way we’ll know we’re headed west, and we’ll always have cover.”

  “Johnson,” Alex repeated, “I’m Alex Duncan, and I’m very glad to meet you fellows. I’ve heard about the Negro regiments, and have wanted to see you in action.”

  “I’m Louis,” came a voice at Alex’s elbow. “Tag along with us, and you’ll see plenty. Johnson, the colonel wants us deeper in the woods; we’ll eat and rest.”

  They followed him and found the first regiment hunkered around cold bacon, beans, and hardtack. “Sorry, no fires yet.” The colonel’s eyes lingered on Alex. His eyes crinkled. “We whites are outnumbered; might need to find some charcoal so we’ll look like the others. Most of your buddies took off,” he added.

  Alex grinned. “Can’t blame them. I think most of them will check on the home fires before they look for a rifle.”

  “How about you?” The colonel’s eyes were keen.

  Alex shifted restlessly. “It’s a temptation, but I’d feel guilty taking off without leave.”

  “Where’s your unit?”

  “I left them on the Rappahannock.”

  “Hooker’s men. Were you at Chancellorsville? Those men were pretty well shot up.”

  “Our division wasn’t,” Alex admitted. “We spent most of the time waiting to be called up. We didn’t seem too well organized.”

  “Can’t understand the Confederates losing so many men and still winning the battle. Heard their losses were twenty-two percent. Also heard they were ready to pounce on the Feds the next morning.”

  Alex muttered, “Most of us came out of there sick at heart because we’d scarcely fired a shot and our buddies were dying without aid.”

  Woodrow shook his head. “It’s a big responsibility, generaling an army that size. I wouldn’t want it.”

  Alex looked around. “Tell me about this regiment. I didn’t realize it was this big.”

  Woodrow pointed his fork at the trees. “You don’t know the half of it. We’ve got two regiments spread through these trees. Been on the sea islands, mostly raising cotton. But the fellows want to fight. That’s where I came in. Just after the Proclamation became official, I was assigned. Now we’re headed for the Mississippi River.”

  “Mississippi!” Alex exclaimed. “You’re a brave bunch. How the Confederates feel about Negro troops is no secret. They’ve given out proclamations of their own—a promise to do in any white man who’s heading up such an outfit.”

  “I know. There’s also reports of captured Negroes being sold as slaves.”

  “Colonel Woodrow,” Alex said taking a deep breath, “I’d like to follow along with you. I suppose I should be looking for my unit, but it appears the chance of making it alone is pretty poor. I want to be with your men. I’ll carry a gun.”

  “We’ll put you in,” Woodrow said. “And I hope when we get to Mississippi, we find someone who can give you a musket.” He got to his feet. “Come on fella, let’s get a little sleep. We’ll march out of here at nightfall. By dark we can cut away from the river. I want to be in the mountains by morning.”

  “Mountain people are Union,” came a soft voice. “We’ll be safe, maybe get something to eat besides hardtack.”

  That evening Colonel Woodrow said, “Duncan, I want you to move up with the front regiment. Lieutenant Hansen will put you to work.”

  Alex was still looking for Lieutenant Hansen when he heard his name. He turned and saw the black man charging toward him. “Caleb!” Alex dropped his pack and grabbed him. Pounding him on the back he exclaimed, “Man, this is nearly like being home!”

  “Alex!” Caleb choked and shook his head. “I didn’t ever expect to see you this side of heaven. How’s it all at home?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t had a letter since last December. Olivia was expecting our baby in March. It’s hard to not be fearful,” he added slowly.

  “And you here instead of going home? Alex, I think Lincoln would let you go home and check on things.”

  “Burnside wouldn’t, and neither would Hooker. I guess I won’t waste my time pounding on President Lincoln’s door. As soon as I get to Mississippi, I’ll post a letter.” He noticed Caleb’s eyes no longer reflected the deep despair he had seen before.

  With his arm across Caleb’s shoulders, Alex asked, “You better now?” Caleb nodded and shrugged. “If we get separated,” Alex said, “I want you to know you’re welcome at the Coopers’. We want you.”

  Caleb’s grin flashed. “What you going to do when this is over? There aren’t any more slaves to run to Canada.”

  “Guess we’ll have to take the Golden Awl downriver for a fishing trip.” Alex was silent for a moment as he looked at Caleb. “I’ve been thinking about it, Caleb. There’s much to be done for the people. We can’t stop now.”

  “I know. Sometimes it scares me to think about it all. Me, I think I’d like to head west. There’s sure to be a better feeling there.”

  Alex was conscious of the circle of dark faces around him. “One thing’s c
ertain; we’ll all have the job of putting this nation back together again, no matter who wins.”

  “Suh—” the heavy voice at his elbow brought Alex around. The black man faced him. “If we don’t win this war, we’ll be worse off than before. Don’t even think we won’t win. If I gotta fight for twenty years, I’ll fight until we’re all free.”

  God, please give me this much conviction, Alex thought. He looked at the man. “I wish I could feel as you do. Fighting still seems wrong to me.”

  The man looked astonished. “Didn’t say I like pulling the trigger. But worse is seeing what slavery does to my young’uns.”

  ****

  The regiments reached the mountains and followed them down to the Kentucky state line. Turning north, they tramped through rain to the Ohio River.

  While they waited for transport down the river, Caleb said, “Alex, you’re close to home; why don’t you go?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t tempt me; it’s hard enough to keep my feet pointed west. If I go now I’ll miss out on the battle.” He tried to grin as he added, “I’d never be able to live with myself if you were killed while I’m sleeping on a feather bed at home. The best I can do is a letter. I’ve talked to that bunch heading into Ohio. They’ll mail a letter for me. And the Lord willing, we’ll soon be home.”

  “That young’un will be knee high when you get there,” Caleb said heavily as he clapped Alex on the shoulder.

  ****

  Mike Clancy stood behind the wheel of the gunboat and watched the eastern Mississippi River shoreline. He trained his field glasses on the line of transports upriver. “Grant’s men ought to be huddled on the Louisiana side of the Mississippi, just below Vicksburg, waiting for us. I think we’re ready to go.”

  He dropped the glasses and nodded at Captain Frazier. “Sir, shall I lead the way? It’ll be near ten o’clock before we pass Vicksburg. There won’t be a moon tonight.”

  “A little anxious, aren’t you?” Frazier said. “Give them another half hour. I’ve been told they’re having a ball in Vicksburg, celebrating Grant’s pulling out of the field. I didn’t get an invitation.” He chuckled. “Frankly, I’ve got a feeling it’s a little premature to celebrate.”

  “Think we have it sewed up this time?”

  Frazier glanced at him. “Might. Grant’s using his head. With the troops being pulled in, I’m inclined to be optimistic.”

  Mike nodded. “After being in this gunboat for five months, I’ll opt for a quick victory.”

  “I don’t think Grant’s put a time limit on it,” Frazier murmured, peering through the binoculars. “Mike, looks to me like the lead boat is heading out. Get on his tail, and remember, try to shield the transports.”

  Mike nodded. “After February and the Indianola affair, we’ve enough nerve to try anything.” Frazier chuckled and pointed his binoculars downstream.

  They pulled out, found the channel, and started downriver. The paddles churned water as the sluggish ironclads drifted into the current. The river was brown with spring runoff; the water moved swiftly. Frazier gave Mike a pleased grin. “It’ll be a snap this time. There’s current enough to shut the engines down and drift past Vicksburg.” He poured coffee for them both and carried one mug to Mike.

  “I hear they brought in two Negro regiments to supply our garrison at Milliken’s Bend.”

  Mike nodded. “They offered me a job piloting one of the gunboats stationed there, but I decided I’d rather be in on some action this time.”

  Frazier turned. “For a newly married man, you’re pretty reckless.”

  Mike took a gulp of coffee. “Didn’t get married.”

  Frazier lowered his mug. “Might be wise. Sometimes we rush through life a little too fast. If she’s serious, she’ll wait.”

  Mike eased the gunboat into the channel and Frazier went down to the chart room. With his hand easy on the wheel, Mike’s thoughts were full of memories: Beth with her laughing face tipped to his, her soft body in his arms. How often her teasing voice enticed while her eyes flashed recklessly.

  Lord, I miss that girl something terrible. I can’t understand. You don’t want me to have her, yet I can’t forget her. Please help me, Father; I’m confused. Giving her up didn’t take her out of my heart.

  As the lights of Vicksburg appeared, Mike sighed and muttered, “Father, one thing is certain. Without her, life is misery. Yet at the same time, I’m living closer to You. Do I understand You don’t want me married?”

  Mike tensed at the sight of Vicksburg. As he grasped the wheel more tightly, bonfires suddenly flared along the bluff above the shore.

  The first big gun boomed into action. A miss; the water geyser spurted up in front of him. At that moment the second explosion came. Now the shells were flying, one after another; to his left was a splash and explosion. The guns fired continuously, but the flotilla held its course.

  The lights of Vicksburg were behind them when Frazier came to the pilothouse. “We lost one transport. Fortunately, it carried only a skeleton crew and no soldiers. Mike, we made it!”

  ****

  Beth turned from the mirror. “Come in, Cynthia.”

  “Beth, Tim is here. There’s a message to be carried.”

  “Sounds important.”

  “I know you didn’t expect him this evening, but please come down and talk to him.” She hesitated. “Now.”

  Beth looked up. She saw the firm line of Cynthia’s mouth. It said more than the one hard word. “Why don’t you go?”

  “I told you; I’ve been recognized. You’ve made only one trip. Come do this, and next week I’ll talk to Timothy about finding a replacement.” Her voice rose abruptly. “Can’t you see, Beth? This isn’t a game. I like you too much to pretend. These people will do anything before they’ll risk being discovered.”

  “Cynthia, you got me into this!”

  “You’re a loyal Southerner,” she soothed. “With your looks and spirit, you can pull it off without trouble. Some girls would be shaking in their shoes.”

  “I am. Spies go to prison.”

  “Don’t be a baby. Come on.” She left the room.

  When Beth walked into the drawing room, Timothy Stollen turned from his pacing. The irritated frown was replaced with a smile. “Sorry to bother you, my dear, but problems are developing. General Hooker has begun to move his army this direction. We need to get a message into Richmond immediately.”

  “And I’m to walk right past his army?”

  “No, you are a pretty little lady taking the train into Richmond to visit an ailing aunt. This message is important. You will be carrying a detailed list of interested parties who will be ready with material and information once General Lee moves his troops over the Potomac.”

  “It sounds as if there’s something big going on.”

  He threw her a quick glance. “Certainly. Our whole network is built to support this ultimate campaign.”

  “Ultimate?”

  He grinned. “This war can’t last forever. This should finish it, and we’ll all be free to go home.” He handed her the silk belt. “The information is sewn inside. Fasten it around your waist. There will be a carriage at the door in half an hour. My man will take you on a roundabout route to the junction outside of Richmond.” He paused and leveled his cold gaze at her.

  “You’ll stay at the same hotel. Tomorrow evening you will meet Mr. Swalling at the Richmond Concert Hall. He has reserved a seat for you. During the performance he will pick up the information. Do you understand?”

  “Of course.” She lifted her chin. He smiled, nodded, and left the house.

  Beth turned. “Cynthia, I’m frightened nearly to death. If the Union catches me, they’ll hang me just as they did that other spy.”

  Cynthia chuckled. “You’ve mixed up your stories, it was the Confederates who hung the spy, and it wasn’t a woman. Beth, you’re working for them, so don’t worry!”

  Beth sighed. “All right, I’ll go—just this one last time.�
�

  Cynthia’s jaw tightened. “Better give it more thought; remember what I said.”

  All night long the train wheels clattered. Don’t worry…don’t worry…don’t worry. Beth tried to ignore them, but they invaded her restless slumber. In the morning, still half asleep, Beth cried out, “Why will no one listen to me?”

  “I beg your pardon, ma’am?” The portly gentleman across the aisle tilted his hat. “I’m getting very hard of hearing. Will you please repeat your question?”

  “Oh—sir, will they stop for breakfast?”

  “I don’t believe so. Would you care for some dried apples?”

  She shook her head and turned away. In the distance Beth could see the skyline of Richmond.

  ****

  Upon reaching the hotel, Beth immediately unpacked her valise. Placing the Bible on the table, she ran her hand over the scuffed leather cover and thought about all the things Olivia had said.

  “So I need God. Is this the way to get Him to pay attention to me? Condemned already. Sinner. I know all that. I am guilty—real guilty.”

  With a heavy sigh, Beth got to her feet. Slowly she removed her frock and chemise. Untying the silken pouch, she pulled out the papers. “Of course they’re in code. A bunch of numbers. I can’t understand any of it. But when I give them to Mr. Stalling, I will be passing along information which will help the South win the war.” She threw the papers onto the table beside the Bible.

  Beth selected a fresh dress and put it on. Taking up her hairbrush, she tried to tame her brilliant curls. She bent forward to look at her reflected image and muttered, “Louisa, you have terrible taste in clothes. Even I know they’re too extreme. This gray looks as if it belonged to a nun.”

  She shuddered and spoke to the serious face in the mirror. “You are supposed to attend a concert, but you didn’t bring a dress suitable for a concert. And why did you bring that Bible and Olivia’s list of verses? They’ll do you no good tonight. God isn’t listening, remember?”

  She flung the brush on the bed, hurried to the table, and opened up the Bible. The first verse was John 3:16. Slowly she read it aloud: “‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’” Glancing up, she mused, “Why am I doing this? It just makes me feel worse.”